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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204090">pug life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorador/pseuds/vorador'>vorador</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingsman (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon, Dogs, Eggsy is a corgi, Fluff, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorador/pseuds/vorador</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart is a light sleeper.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pug life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>apparently this was a tumblr prompt fic from back when i had a different tumblr username. i posted it on my dreamwidth ages ago and now i stumbled across it again and i'm putting it here just to make it look like i haven't abandoned writing forever. (because i haven't. promise.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry Hart is a light sleeper. It's not exactly a requirement in his line of work, but it's expected, and even though he's not a field agent anymore, old habits die hard.</p><p>Especially habits born of necessity – but where before it was his survival instincts that had him awake and alert at the smallest of noises, now it's the knowledge that if he doesn't clean up after Eggsy as soon as possible, it'll leave a stain and that will make his day a whole lot worse.</p><p>(Maybe he should look into installing new flooring. Preferably something that's easy to clean. His knees and back tend to protest rather loudly every time he has to bend down to scrub dirt and blood off the floor.</p><p>And he really needs to do something about Eggsy's nasty habit of bringing him dead things.)</p><p>So when he hears the creak of the doggy door, he's already resigned to his fate – which is on his knees, scrubbing street gunk off his wooden floors at ass o'clock in the morning. He gets into his robe and slippers and pads downstairs, ready to tackle whatever new mess Eggsy made this time. </p><p>The curtains in the living room downstairs are pulled back and grey morning light spills in through the windows. It's a lot later than usual for Eggsy to come home from his nightly hunt; perhaps the prey is getting crafty and harder to catch. The hallway is also considerably cleaner than the last couple of times Eggsy came home after a night out. Aside from some dry leaves that the wind probably blew in as Eggsy was entering, there's no mess to speak of. </p><p>The pup is nowhere to be seen – or heard – either. He should be barking up a storm right about now, eager to show his latest catch to his human, but the house is quiet. Harry listens intently for a few moments until he finally hears it: a very slight shuffling sound, followed by Eggsy's unmistakable huffs of breath.</p><p>Then – surprisingly – a very small, very un-Eggsy-like whimper.</p><p>Okay, what the hell.</p><p>"Eggsy?" Harry calls out.</p><p>There's an answering bark coming from somewhere down the hall, but Eggsy doesn't seem to be in a hurry to come to his human when called. That's a first.</p><p>And then there's that whimper again.</p><p>Harry makes his way down the hall and stops in front of his study. The door is ajar, and when he pushes it open and walks in, there's Eggsy, curled up in his doggy bed by the desk. </p><p>The pup lifts his head to look at his master and that's when Harry sees it.</p><p>Even in the dim light coming in from outside, there's no mistaking the squirming creature between Eggsy's paws. Harry could never forget something like that; it wasn't that long ago that Eggsy himself was that small.</p><p>The tiny thing wriggles out from under one of Eggsy's paws and whimpers again, small and high-pitched.</p><p>Eggsy brought home a baby pug this time. Good god.</p><p>Harry smiles and crouches down by the doggy bed. He doesn't miss the way Eggsy sits up a little and puts his paw over the small pup, already so protective of it. He doesn't growl at Harry, but he doesn't need to; Harry doesn't move to touch either of them.</p><p>"There's a good boy, Eggsy," he says and pulls himself up by the edge of the desk. "I just hope you didn't take the poor thing away from its mother."</p><p>**</p><p>A couple of hours and an emergency vet visit later Harry finds himself the temporary caretaker of one tiny two-weeks-old pug. The vet offers to take the little one to a pet shelter, but Eggsy raises hell and refuses to let the man walk out of the house with the pup. </p><p>Harry doesn't have a choice. He stocks up on baby formula and warm blankets and whatever else the vet says he would need to properly care for the pup.</p><p>The little one doesn't have a name yet. Harry doesn't see the point in naming him, since he figures someone will come looking for him sooner or later. The poor thing isn't even old enough to eat solid food, and as per the vet's instructions, Harry has to bottle-feed him and care for him until he reaches a normal weight for his age. </p><p>He tries not to get too attached to the little one, but all his years of training to be a ruthless killing machine and the two and a half decades spent being a cold-hearted assassin prove utterly useless when the little one whimpers in his arms and burrows deeper into the crook of his elbow, seeking warmth. </p><p>In less than a day from when Eggsy brought the pup home, Harry is completely smitten with him.</p><p>A lot of things change in the Hart household apparently overnight. Harry learns how to prepare baby formula at two in the morning with his eyes half-closed. He learns how to hold the little one and how to feed and keep him warm and happy. Eggsy stops going out at night and consequently stops bringing home all manner of dead things. In fact, he barely leaves the puppy's side and barks and tugs at Harry's trousers whenever Harry picks up the little one to feed him. He doesn't want to lose sight of him, and it's really rather sweet to watch him fret and fuss over a little baby pug like an overprotective older brother. </p><p>Three weeks later, Harry decides that it's time to give the little one a proper name.</p><p>**</p><p>"JB?" Merlin says. </p><p>Lancelot next to him quips, "Is that short for James Bond?"</p><p>Harry smiles indulgently. "No, it's not."</p><p>"I think we know him a little better than that. Don't we, Lancelot?" Merlin says. He gives Harry a crooked smile. "It's short for Jelly Bean."</p><p>Harry's pleasant smile falters for beat, but it's long enough that Merlin notices and his own smile widens.</p><p>"Of course not, that's ridiculous," Harry says. "Why would I name my dog Jelly Bean?"</p><p>"You named your first dog Mr Pickle," Merlin points out. "Then this little devil here Eggsy. Couldn't help but notice a pattern."</p><p>"Well, you're wrong this time, Merlin," Harry says. "His name isn’t Jelly Bean."</p><p>Merlin doesn't look at all convinced, or any less smug. "What is his name, then?"</p><p>Harry swallows. Clears his throat. "It's Jack Bauer."</p>
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